Whale Riders
by Lemon Icee
Summary: The team's been hired to investigate illegal whaling off the coast of Washington State, but go up against more than fisherman in the open ocean. A sea-faring adventure! Starring whole team but leaning towards Murdock-centric. Rated for language.
1. Highly Contagious

**AN: **This is my first attempt at an A-Team fic, and I'll be honest, I've only seen the movie so there may be many errors! Takes place pretty much right after the movie, ignoring the obvious "There will be a sequel that will involve THIS" ending. Enjoy!

Clearly I own none of this.

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**Chapter 1**

The interior of the San Francisco Veteran's Association mental ward was painted pastel yellow and robin's egg blue, a palette scientifically proven to induce a calming effect. But science was failing Templeton Peck. He strode through the hospital halls in scrubs, wearing a face mask and gloves, and growing more anxious with each step. This fear was unfamiliar to him; he was a natural conman and tricking a few pretty nurses into letting him take one of their patients away for a considerable amount of time should be a snap, especially with a smile as charming as his.

But it was the first time the team had attempted a break-out through trickery, last time's van-through-wall approach being much more straightforward. And there was something about the other patients in the ward that unnerved Face as he walked briskly by them, their eyes empty and staring, or else filled with a fear of some distant or imagined trauma. It creeped him out. He wondered how the doctors and nurses hadn't noticed the difference between these obvious nut jobs and Murdock, who was wacky yeah, but who definitely hadn't checked out.

Face composed himself as he reached the reception desk, where a rather unwelcome hitch in his plan presented itself. The nurse working the desk was a man. Swallowing hard, Face strode up with purpose, replacing what originally was going to be a sexy grin with a business-like expression. He removed his mask and wrapped on the desk twice to get the nurse's attention.

"Excuse me sir," he said, deepening his voice unnecessarily. "I have a rather urgent matter to bring to this hospital's attention pertaining to one particular patient in this ward."

The nurse looked up from his computer, uninterested. "And what would that be Mister…?"

"Doctor, actually," Face said smoothly. "Doctor Bradley DeWitt. The issue is concerning one," he looked at the paper in his file folder as if searching for the name, "H.M. Murdock, who I believe is patient number 35129 in this hospital. Is that correct?"

The nurse typed something into the computer, which made a pinging confirmation noise. "That's correct yes," he sounded more convinced now. "What's the matter?"

"It's come to the attention of the Army Medical Unit that several soldiers stationed in a specific base in Afghanistan may have been exposed to a highly contagious and potentially fatal strain of the H1N1 virus, otherwise known as Swine Flu," the nurse's eyes were wide and Face had to suppress a grin; he was really very good at what he did.

"Obviously we aren't going to take any risks, and have prepared a quarantine ward for the exposed soldiers while the vaccinations are being developed. I have here," he pulled out some entirely fake forms which Hannibal had masterfully crafted, "some release forms requesting the immediate discharge of Mr. Murdock from this hospital for a period of two weeks." He handed the forms to the nurse, who quickly set about filling them out.

"This virus, it's highly contagious you said?" The nurse asked as he worked through the papers.

"HIGHLY," Face replied ominously.

The nurse looked up nervously. "So if I've…been in contact with the patient, could I-?"

"Oh yes, it's very likely," Face nodded matter-of-factly. "I'd get yourself checked out as soon as possible. In fact I'd say this whole ward ought to be seen to by a doctor. I would do it but, you know, haven't the time right now." He shrugged.

The nurse filled out a release pass for a two-week period assigned to Mr. H.M. Murdock, and handed it to Face, looking slightly green.

"Thank you sir, have a great day!" Face said cheerily, replacing his facemask and giving a single wave of his gloved hand as he strolled on towards Murdock's room.

_Well that went much better than expected,_ Face thought happily, ignoring an old vet who was staring at him with those hollow eyes. _I didn't even have to show ID, what a cakewalk._

He stopped just outside of room 409, which had been home to his friend and team member for just over two weeks. It had been hard admitting Murdock back into the hospital, but even the pilot himself admitted he ought to stay there, albeit his reasoning was that the pudding was delicious.

Face knocked twice before walking in. The room was fairly small, about the size of a freshman college dorm room, and was furnished with cheap-looking essentials: a bed, a dresser, a side table. But Murdock had made the place his own in the time he'd been there; there were posters on the walls for movies such as _Ghostbusters_, _Star Wars_ and _Jurassic Park_. His bedding had Scooby-Doo characters on it, and hung from the ceiling were various model airplanes and helicopters, as well as one dirigible. Murdock himself was sitting with his back against the wall, wearing He-Man boxer shorts and a _Back to the Future_ shirt, playing on an old Gameboy from the 90s. He looked up with surprise as Face walked in and shut the door behind him.

"Hey Dr. Faceman!" Murdock said with a loopy grin. "Time for more shots already?"

"Let's hope not," Face said, removing his mask again and smiling triumphantly. "I already got you shot once, I think that's enough for a while."

Murdock sprang to his feet, tossing the bleeping gameboy onto his bed. "We got a job?"

"Yep, and it'll be an interesting one I think," Face said, politely turning away as Murdock began changing into more appropriate clothing, "in Seattle of all places."

"Oh yeah? Is it vampires?" Murdock asked, hopping around on one foot while he struggled to get a sock on. "Or Bigfoot?"

Face laughed, turning to face the disheveled pilot. "What is it exactly that you think we do, Murdock?"

Murdock shrugged, his sweater on backwards. "I dunno, whatever needs to be done?"

Face frowned in surprise. "Well, I guess yeah."


	2. The Mission is This

**AN:** By the way all of the facts in this chapter are pretty much fake. I mean, derived from truth, but fake nonetheless.

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**CHAPTER 2**

Twenty minutes later Face and Murdock were out of the calming yellow halls of the mental ward and in the back seats of BA's van, with the big man driving and their leader sitting in the passenger seat; the usual formation. Hannibal was chewing a cigar while explaining the details of their first official mission as renegade civilian helpers.

The A-Team was available for hire to anyone who could pay (and who wouldn't give them up to the military), but Hannibal didn't make it easy to find them. He had several disguises, some better than others, which he used to filter through potential clients, all of whom had somehow heard of the freelance soldiers. He looked for clients who had a real need, who had no other options, and of course who seemed like they could deliver monetarily. And he had found one at last, while pretending to be a peddler of Alcatraz merchandise. David Wrotham, a young man from the Chinook tribe in Northwest Washington State, had been thoroughly vetted by the Colonel, and had hired the A-Team.

The mission was this: Commercial whaling had long been banned in the United States, and Native American whaling had been severely limited with many specific regulations in place. It was a system which preserved treasured tribal traditions (limitedly), while making sure that the endangered whale populations were not threatened. However recent hunts by David's tribe had been unusually difficult because the whale pods were oddly hard to find, and when they did find them they were often too small to hunt from. It was a mystery until one day three members of his tribe, including his brother Paul, encountered a large commercial fishing vessel while on a hunt. Ships are not allowed within 500 yards of whales, but this one was dangerously close. The three tried to warn the vessel, until a sinister metal harpoon shot down from the deck and pierced a small whale, hauling it up carelessly.

The three tried to paddle back to shore to inform the police, but they were intercepted by several speedboats, loaded with men carrying rifles, all pointing at the canoers. At gunpoint, they took Paul hostage. The remaining two were informed that if they turned in the whaling ship to the police or to the media, Paul would be killed.

Terrified, unsure of what to do, they told David what had happened.

"And he found us," Hannibal concluded, craning his neck back to see the rest of his team. "Lucky him."

"How we getting to Seattle anyway, Hannibal?" B.A. asked, giving his boss a warning glance. "It's only a two day drive from here if I-"

"Sorry B.A. but we haven't got 2 days," Hannibal interrupted. "I've booked us a charter vessel in Seattle that we need to pick up tomorrow morning, and four tickets for a plane we need to get to by 10:45pm tonight."

"No way Hannibal, no way you are getting my ass on that plane. I'll meet you guys in two days, I'll swim to you if I have to," B.A. said angrily. Hannibal rolled his eyes.

"It's dangerous swimmin' in open water B.A.!" warned Murdock from the back seat. "Could be krakens. 'Sides, what if one of them whales mistakes you for its baby, big guy?" Laughing manically he danced out of B.A.'s reach as the driver tried to grab for his throat.

"That's rude, you crazy-ass fool," B.A. bellowed, nearly getting them into an accident as he attempted to strangle the pilot.

"Hannibal, I'll drop you guys off at the airport, but there ain't no way I'm going with you." He put both hands back on the steering wheel as Murdock started humming the theme from Free Willy. "Second thought, I'll drop _him_ off a cliff instead," he grumbled.


	3. Ships Have Feelings Too

**Author's Note: **Sorry this took so long and that it is so subpar. After seeing Inception, frankly all my energy went into LOVING THAT MOVIE TO DEATH. But I still love the Team so here you are, hopefully I'll get my act together for these guys!

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Getting B.A. onto the plane had been a very difficult task. As soon as they reached the parking lot and Baracus barked at them to get out of the van, Murdock had sprung from behind with a needle containing a lower dosage than usual of the narcotic. The result was that B.A. was in a semi-conscious state; he was unable to walk, talk or utilize his fine motor skills, but he was technically awake. The rest of the team hauled him into a wheelchair, put a wig on him, draped a blanket across his lap and donned their own disguises.

Hannibal was to be Tom Mitchell, elusive billionaire who spends his fortune helping the underprivileged and the mentally disabled. Face was his assistant Lucas Parker, wielding a blackberry and sporting very stylish sunglasses. B.A. and Murdock were their "special friends," whom the kindly Mr. Mitchell was taking to see Alaska by way of Seattle. Thanks to Hannibal's skill with forging documents and the fact that B.A. was drooling a little, no one seemed to question the story. Murdock did his part by intermittently yelling about how he longed to see the great white north, quoting various Jack Frost novels.

So it was that three hours later, just after 2 am, the team arrived at the airport adjacent hotel Hannibal had booked them. With great effort Face and Murdock hoisted B.A. (now fully asleep) onto one of the queen-sized beds while Hannibal studied a map of the area on the other.

"Well boys, I suggest you follow B.A.'s lead and get right to bed," the Colonel said, frowning at the map. "Looks like we'll need to be getting up at about 0600 to catch our boat."

"6 am?" Face groaned, collapsing onto the bed beside Hannibal.

"Hey Faceman, don't you wanna sleep in the other bed tonight?" Murdock asked casually, while casting a worried glance at the sleeping B.A. "It's closer to the window, you can see all the pretty stars!"

Face shook his head, removing his sleeping things from his rucksack. "No way man, all that stellar radiation is murder for my complexion," he grinned up at Murdock as the pilot gulped. "Good luck!" He put his sleep mask on and fell asleep almost instantly.

Hannibal too had folded up his map and tucked himself under the covers.

"Night Murdock," he said, turning out the lamp.

B.A. grumbled in his sleep.

B.A. was the first to wake up the next morning, blinking into consciousness around 5:30am. His confusion lasted several seconds, and then rage set in. Leaping out of bed he growled, scanning the room for the crazy fool who drugged him. Murdock wasn't on either of the beds, or the small couch. Angry, feeling extremely groggy, B.A. stumbled into the bathroom to wash his face.

As soon as he turned on the lights, a moan came from the bathtub. The curtains were drawn, but B.A. could see the fuzzy Murdock-shaped shadow behind them. Grinning, the element of surprise on his side, the large man tore the curtains open and grabbed the pilot by the neck in one swift motion, shaking him.

"Don't you ever try that crap again you lunatic!" He shouted, giving Murdock a shake with each word.

"Hey! Let go'a me!" Murdock wailed, wrestling himself free of B.A.'s grip.

"Don't you think I didn't know what was goin' on," B.A. pointed a threatening finger at Murdock's face. "Pretendin' I was some crazy ass fool like you, that ain't right!"

He threw Murdock back down into the ceramic tub roughly, grumbling at the quaking pilot.

"Hannibal owes me big time for this shit," he growled, and threw his wet facecloth onto Murdock's head.

An hour later found the gang piled into a rental car, which Face was driving for a change. BA was lounging in the front seat, pushing his chair back as far as it would go to annoy Murdock who was sitting behind him. Hannibal had graciously allowed BA shotgun to make up for what really had been a pretty terrible plan.

They made their way to the docks where their rented boat was waiting, and pulled into the parking lot just as the sun began to rise over the mountains.

"Here we are gentlemen!" Hannibal announced as he exited the car, stretching his legs which had been terribly cramped. "Allow me to introduce you to the Rainier." He gestured to the small fishing vessel moored in the harbor behind him. Striking up a cigar, he looked over the ship appraisingly. "She looks like she'll do just fine, eh?"

"She looks like she might be comfortable for a couple of midgets," Face muttered, digging his hands into his pockets in the cold morning air.

"How long we got to stay on this thing Hannibal?" BA asked warily.

"Until we find our man, or any evidence to suggest he isn't out at sea," Hannibal said.

Murdock was already running towards the boat gleefully, running his hand along the steel exterior.

"She's gorgeous Colonel!" he shouted and Hannibal grinned. "But I don't think she likes the name Rainier, pretty thing like her. She'd much prefer a more ladylike name, like Katie."

"Ship don't care what it's called you crazy fool!" BA yelled, as he and the rest of the team followed Murdock onto the ship.

"You care when I call you Baracus Obama," Murdock said, running the length of the ship.

"That's cause it's straight ignorant," BA grumbled, and he caught Murdock by his collar as the pilot dashed by.

"I've taken the liberty to bring some more appropriate outfits too, boys," Hannibal said, turning the other cheek to the impending beating Murdock was facing at the hands of BA. From his rucksack he pulled out four sets of clothing: sweaters and course jeans in murky, drab colors, and four blue knit caps.

"This'll help us blend in. We have to appear to be a fishing operation if we want to get close to these whalers. I expect they'll avoid any type of ship, but this at least will be more inconspicuous."

"Hannibal these are hideous and they smell," Face moaned, picking up his sweater at arm's length with his thumb and forefinger. "Where did you get them?"

"Army surplus," Hannibal said casually, and Face groaned again.

"There's a bathroom inside, Murdock why don't you get yours on first." With a salute the captain took his things and dashed into the cabin.

"How are we even operating this thing, none of us have used this kind of boat before," Face asked skeptically.

"I got a friend of ours to help out. He'll be here soon."

Sure enough, not five minutes later a truck pulled into the parking lot and out came David, already dressed the part of the fisher and waving.

Murdock bounded out of the bathroom in his new clothing and sporting an eye patch made out of toilet paper.

"Avast me mateys, tis time for adventure on the high seas!"


	4. Semaphores

**Author's Note: **Again, sorry for the delay! Inception literally has taken over my fandom capacity. This isn't too much of an update, but more will come soon! Thanks for the reviews, enjoy!

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David turned out to be an excellent sailor, operating the boat with finesse as he commanded the A-Team to do various tasks. They were two hours into the open ocean, without another boat in sight, when they took a lunch break.

Murdock had made them a nice hearty stu, the meat in which everyone was too wise to ask the origin of. Singing a sea shanty, Murdock served his crew merrily before grabbing a bowlful himself and plopping down beside Face in the small eating nook. It was a tight squeeze fitting all five men in the galley, but they ate with gusto and David gave them a few more details about the kidnapping.

"Paul is much more into the preservation of our heritage than I am," he admitted. "I'm going to the university for medicine. He decided not to go to school, but he's been working with Native American advocacy groups and is a pretty public figure around here. Very outspoken. I'm worried they know who he is and will try to make an example of him."

"What problem do they have with Native American rights?" Hannibal asked.

"Paul's very outspoken about illegal whaling," David explained. "He says it's important that all whaling practices are respectful and legal, in order to maintain that part of our tradition peaceably. Commercial whalers like the ones who took him not only destroy any chance for us to practice it, but they do not use the whales they kill responsibly at all. Oftentimes they chop off one part of the whale and just throw out the rest, or else they hunt female whales, which is entirely forbidden."

"What's the market for whale meat anyway?" Face asked, making a face. "Doesn't sound that good to me."

Before David could respond, a voice boomed across the water to them from a distant PA system.

"Attention sea craft; You are about to enter contested waters, please divert course to South by Southeast."

"Contested waters?" David said, frowning. "We're hundreds of miles from Canada, there's no contested waters around here."

Hannibal and Murdock, being on the outsides of the booths, had both sprung up to look out at the source of the noise.

Hannibal scanned the horizon, searching for another ship, when he heard Murdock.

"Colonel, I think we got trouble." Hannibal looked up to see Murdock pointing starboard, where a mean-looking ship, large and industrial, was fast approaching. It looked like a fishing ship.

"Oooh Lawdy, troubles so hard!" Murdock sang as Hannibal rushed to get a closer look.

"David, hide in the cabin somewhere," Hannibal called out. "The team and I are going to have a little talk with this vessel."

Face walked up to stand beside his CO.

"They sure don't look like they're up for chatting boss," he said, slightly nervously.

"Well Face, we have to say something," Hannibal said. "We're just simple fishermen after all, and these waters are in no way 'contested'. And if they won't listen to reason, well, I find that certain things can stimulate conversation." He patted the rifle in his pocket. Face gulped.

"Murdock, send them a signal in semaphore, ask them if we can come aboard to talk."

"He knows semaphore now?" Face asked as Murdock skipped off to fetch the flags.

Hannibal shrugged. "I just assumed so."


End file.
